


Flexible

by flowersforgraves



Series: BTHB [13]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Bad Things Happen Bingo, Gen, Trapped
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-26 09:16:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16678828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowersforgraves/pseuds/flowersforgraves
Summary: Fives is upside down in a rope net. It's not nearly as fun as it sounds.





	Flexible

**Author's Note:**

> prompt from tiender on tumblr: caught in a snare + Fives
> 
> (card [here](https://flowersforgraves.tumblr.com/post/177921515881/); current list of claimed and filled prompts [here](https://flowersforgraves.tumblr.com/post/180297119216/))

Fives is upside down, head pounding with blood, even though it's only been a couple minutes since he'd accidentally sprung the trap. Ropes twist around him, a net holding him far enough off the ground to break bones if the whole net were to fall.

He's already tried being angry. He'd kicked and yanked and done everything in his physical power to break the ropes by force, but to no avail. There was a little give at one point, but he likes his fingernails just fine where they are, thanks, no need to tear his hands up. So he settles down for the methodical approach. 

One foot, point the toe, draw the knee to the chest. Rotate the same ankle, keep the upper leg still. His muscles shake from the unfamiliar stresses put on them, and in a second he's going to get too shaky to maintain the level of control he needs.

He sighs. Maybe he should just sit and wait. But it's not in his nature to sit quietly -- well, for a given value of 'sit' -- and wait, gambling on whether his vod'e will find him before whoever set this trap does. He shifts as best as he can, craning his neck to see as far around as he can. There's no sign of any sentient life anywhere in this forest, beyond the distant thunder of heavy artillery on the battlefield. His comm is out of reach, and his hands are trapped so he can't reach his knife to cut himself free. 

Another deep breath, and he's ready to have another shot at getting his leg free. He turns, twisting into the position where he'll have the least work to do (unfortunate, that it seems to also be the most uncomfortable position), and sets to it again. 

This time he gets as far as one twist undone before his leg just stops working. He huffs out a sigh, pulling himself as upright as possible in an effort to get his head to stop aching. It also takes the weight off his upper back, which is almost a bigger relief than not being able to feel his leg anymore. There's really nothing else he can do, other than wait to be able to move around again, and if he's waiting for that he might as well just wait the entire time for someone to find him.

However, there is one more thing he can try. It's only worked once before, and that when the situation was so dire he wasn't sure he hadn't hallucinated it. But he tries anyway, takes a deep breath and centers himself the way he's watched General Skywalker do (or, rather, _try_ to do) a hundred times. He reaches out with his mind for his brother.

 _Echo,_ he thinks. _Echo, can you hear me?_ He pauses, clenches hands into fists. Nothing. _Echo, vod,_ he tries again. _Echo!_

There's a rustling noise behind him, footsteps and the snap of a branch. He frantically whips his head around, but he can't quite see who it is approaching him. _Echo!_ he yells mentally once more, and then his batchmate's bucket appears in his field of vision. 

"How'd you manage this one, vod?" Echo's holding back laughter, and his whole demeanor radiates amusement. "You called?"


End file.
